


seven minutes in heaven

by childrenofgiants



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Kiss, Party, Seven Minutes In Heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 04:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4334423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childrenofgiants/pseuds/childrenofgiants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Mikasa play a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	seven minutes in heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Foxberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxberry/gifts).



"You don't have to kiss me," he tells her two minutes into the game.

Jean runs his thumb over the face of his watch while he talks, watching it blink green in the darkness of Reiner's coat closet. He squints, making out the faint outline of a couple steps away, and it looks like she's sinking into the coats hanging behind her. He swears the seconds are just as long minutes, as he clicks his watch on again, watching the time inch by. 

"We have like, five more minutes," he adds, voice cracking. He manages to catch sight of her nod. Mikasa folds her arms across her chest, and he wonders how much she loathes being in here with him. An hour ago, Connie slapped a bottle in the middle of their circle and challenged them all to a never-ending round of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Spin after spin, people streamed in and out of Reiner's closet, some victorious and others absolutely miserable. He had managed to dodge a close call with Eren and watched as the lip of the bottle settled on Armin, but other than that, Jean was pretty much in clear. Connie had finally stumbled out of the closet, sputtering something about a last round with Sasha following him out, and as shit would have it, Mikasa spun the bottle. It landed on him. 

He tries to remember if she reacted; everyone else certainly had with half the room hollering taunts, and the other half bubbling with laughter. Eren fumed in the corner with Armin holding him back, and Jean could barely pay attention to any of it, the sound of his heartbeat choking out everything else. But Mikasa got up, dusted the folds of her skirt and walked ahead of him, cool and assured as usual. As if it was nothing. As if it was something simple as shaking hands, or bumping shoulders. 

He trips on his way up, and hopes to God she doesn't see him, a tangled, blushing, stumbling mess barely slipping into the closet after her. Reiner drags the door shut, winking at him before it clicks shut.

"Seven minutes, and seven minutes only, Kirschtein."

The quiet speaks louder than words. 

"I know the rules," he continues when she doesn't say anything at all. "I mean, I know we're supposed to kiss and all, but I get if you don't want to. It's okay. 'S dark in here anyway, and we can barely see each other. It's hot too, all these coats and everything, and are you sure you're okay, 'cause if not, I'll tell them--"  
  
"Jean."

Mikasa is speaking to him, and he can barely wrap his head around it. Jean looks up, the whisper of his name grazing against his ear. Mikasa looks right at him, hands twined in front of her, bottom lip tucked under her teeth. She moves, the floorboards creaking under her weight, and the coats swaying all about her when she draws closer. Her knuckles bump against his stomach; he gasps and she mumbles an apology.

"We're supposed to kiss, right?" she asks, voice wobbling. Fear, nerves, Jean can't tell when the space between them-- _the space he can't see--_ is wound with tension and heat, and he can't decide which direction he should turn his head. Mikasa reaches out again, her hand fumbling in the dark until it reaches his shoulder. "I'm supposed to kiss you."

Or he's supposed to kiss her; he can't decide whether it's a matter of courtesy, when he can barely move or speak. Mikasa moves once more, the folds of her sweater brushing against him, and Jean can see the faint sketch of her outline when she tilts her chin.

She's going to kiss him.

Jean closes his eyes and waits, lips pursed, the rise and fall of his chest a little faster than he would like. He waits while static crackles between them, while her breath stutters across his face, while her fingers find the front of his shirt, and his tangle themselves at her waist. He waits, and waits, hearing the minutes tick by in his head, and feels the ghost of her lips dance across his--

The door snaps open unceremoniously, light flooding the closet. One look at the two of them toe-to-toe, and Reiner bursts out into a series of cheers. Mikasa sinks back on her heels, yanking her scarf up and over her nose, and pushing past Reiner, into the crowd. Jean stands rooted in the same spot, lips still parted with something heavy hanging over his shoulders. He shuffles out of the closet, earning a slap on the back from both Reiner and Connie. He looks for her--is still looking for her, when he wanders around the four corners of the house, wondering where she went. He's not sure what to say to make it better, if it was even worse to begin with, but he feels the need to say something about it if she lets him. And evidently, her disappearance says more than enough. 

Jean tells himself he's outside for cellphone signal, but air is what he needs, lungs folding and cheeks still alit.

"Maman, I know it's early," he says between his mother's chattering. Jean tilts his chin, looking about the backyard. "No, nothing happened, I'm fine. I just--I just want to go home. Yeah. Okay. I'll wait for you out front."

She's there, sitting on the porch steps. He doesn't see her until she all but jumps at the sound of his voice, twisting around from her perch on the top step. It nearly knocks the wind out of him all over again, with her hair trimmed in moonlight. Jean stands up too straight, throat dry, itching to leave. 

"Mikasa," he exclaims, and his voice splits and squeaks. "Do you need anything from inside? I can get Eren or Armin..."

"I'm sorry." Mikasa rests her elbows on her knees and turns away, head bowed. "I'm sorry for not kissing--not getting to kiss you. I-I should probably tell you the truth."

Jean frowns and moves from the wall, listening to the sound his sneakers make when he settles down beside her. 

"It's fine," he tells her, watching the way she curls into herself. "You shouldn't have to explain yourself. Shouldn't feel like you have to do anything, really. It's a stupid, creepy game anyway. I mean--you deserve something nicer than Reiner's coat closet, with someone else, someone with more experience. You deserve--"

"I've never done it before," she blurts. "Kissing and stuff. I've...never really kissed someone, okay? But...it would've been fine. With you." Mikasa looks up at him, a blush rippling across her cheeks. "It would've been fine with you."

"Me?"

Mikasa smiles. "You."

He nearly shits himself at the sound of the car horn. 

Mikasa's shoulders sink, and she goes back to picking at the loose threads in her scarf. 

"You might want to get going. You don't want to keep your mom waiting..." 

His knee is bouncing. "Yeah, yeah I'll--"

It takes a second to kiss her, just his lips against her cheek, so quick, he can barely realize how soft her skin is.

"I'll see you later," Jean finishes, scrambling to his feet. He nearly misses a step

The last thing he expects is for her to follow him. 

His mother stops the van and lets him out, idling in the driveway while he all but falls onto the pavement, intent on smacking his face right in front of her.

"Hey," he exclaims, digging his fingers through his hair, hoping to look okay. 

"Mikasa, are you all--"

"Fine. I'm fine," she says. Mikasa looks down at her hands once more before she reaches out, grasping him by the collar and pulling him towards her. Her lips are on his, soft and misaligned as the kiss lands closer to the corner of his mouth and lasts half a second. "I'll see you Monday, right?"

Jean tries to blink away the surprise as best he can. "Monday, yeah, sure." He frowns, taking a step towards her, palm against her cheek. He gets it right this time--the whole-heart-in-your-throat, hitch-in-your-breath deal when he touches lips with her again. "Goodnight, Mikasa."  
  
His mother is grinning by the time he makes it back inside the van when she says, "How'd you make out?"

 


End file.
